


What Spring does to Cherry Trees

by BelleLorage



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AUNTIE IS GONNA TELL YALL A STORY, Alpha!Tom Riddle, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Grey!Harry Potter, Grey!Tom Riddle, Handsome Tom Riddle, M/M, Omega!Harry Potter, Possessive Tom Riddle, Princes & Princesses, SETTLE IN KIDS, Sane Tom Riddle, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 06:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14207652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleLorage/pseuds/BelleLorage
Summary: Once upon a time, a kingdom far, far away was ungulfed in war. What was once a land prosper and peaceful, now knew nothing except conflict and strife. The only hope of everlasting peace had been taken away from them by a cruel sorcerer that ravaged their land.But all is not as it seems. And this is where our tale begins...





	What Spring does to Cherry Trees

Swords met with deafening clashes as an enemy unseen tried to crush the princess down. Harry grit his teeth, holding his own sword firm, blocking the blow but unable to push back. The sounds of war rose around them as the enemy’s foot connected to the princess’ armored chest and Harry was flung back onto the carcass of a burnt tree. He screamed at the new pain, his armor made for speed and not heavy protection. It was blinding sort of pain but not one he could stay idle about. Gritting his teeth, the omega quickly moved away as another swing came and was aimed for his head.

Harry heaved, blindly picking himself up from the ground and poised his sword for a swift attack. He did not strike to kill his opponent but to damage him just enough so that he would stop attacking and let the omega leave to the next. There was always a next one. He hated, despised killing but war never left him too many choices.

Either way, there would be blood.

Ten years. Ten years of bloodshed. And yet, to him, it felt like a lifetime. Their wedding would have been the founding stone of everlasting peace in the realm; the bridge between two of the greatest folk the world had ever seen. But Tom had gone and with him, he had taken every sense of stability, decency and chance for peace they could’ve had.

What they could’ve been...

The attacker was a magic user and had tried to use an unforgivable curse upon Harry. He blocked it quickly, having been taught how by his would-be fiancee and quickly looked for cover. He focused, even as the world around him was wild and loud, conjuring up great flames towards the enemy to better shield his tactical repositioning and then jumped up a tree. He needed the high ground

Ten years. And Harry was tired. Exhaustion ran bone deep ever since the morning came that fateful day when Tom wasn’t there anymore. He had searched high and low for the other boy; until he was out of breath; until his feet began to bleed; until he was tired he could barely see; and that tiredness never actually left.

Nor did the sadness.

Tom should have never given him his heart if he ever expected Harry to want less.

He put away his long sword and pulled out daggers, shoulders already screaming from bone deep exhaustion. Heavy armor was specially good for long, heavy strikes but did not help for the smaller ones; for the ones aimed at it’s chinks. He quickly enchanted the blades, rapidly murmuring encantations, until they sang scarlet. He needed to be quick and efficient. He was too tired for anything more.

He was not made for this.

Harry had never wanted to fight old Grindelwald to begin with. The old alpha had never been unkind to him; had always had a soft spot for the omega child that came every two years to his home, to be his ward and heir’s companion. Tom’s disappearance had striked them both equally hard and until Grandpa Albus had come to collect Harry, they had leaned one another.

He had seen the old man cry. First, in anger. Then, in sorrow. He had held onto Harry’s small frame and silently, wordlessly, his tears had joined the omega’s as news failed to come. As all hope became as lost as Tom.

But Harry’s own views mattered very little. His people had always resented the war lost to Grindelwald and without an heir, the vultures from the alpha’s kingdom began to peck. They fell into civil war. And that brought on again the war between Gellert and Albus. And then, from the east came hordes of darkness. And now... And now they were all so weak that Harry was fighting just to stay alive.

The attacker was right below him and Harry blessed himself thrice. For ten years, he had been trained in the flames of war and in the heart of their people. He was good at it, quick and headstrong. He had won as many a combat as any decent alpha warrior, however the place Harry really shined was the choice of his people.

His generals, Ron and Hermione, were the bravest and most intelligent in all the land and when the three of them put their minds together, they were unbeatable. They were the shining light of hope for their nation and it was thought that they could win this war against the darkness and it’s Lord. They called Harry their Savior and put all their hopes, dreams and prayers to him, wishing that he made the world right again.

Harry doubted he could ever do it now, separated from his friends and allies, scurried up a tree like a frightened fox.

He let himself fall on top of his foe without a sound, jabbing down the chink he knew was there between ghastly white-faced skull helmet and dark iron armor. The man, the creature had no time to react. Harry just kept on striking and striking down without stop. Hot, dark red blood shot up like a volcano and bathed his own light golden breast plate crimson as the heavy soldier fell, and Harry with him, to the ground, dead.

It was a dizzying fall and Harry laid there, on his back, hurt and weary. He looked into the smoke filled sky and thought of the lake of stars where he had once been so happy. He had returned there, in the years since Tom; in between bloody wars. He had laid there in utter silence and watched as the stars fell and danced on the glittering water. He had offered Tom one, as an engagement gift and Tom had given him his heart.

He still had the alpha’s heart. He had charmed into a chain he wore to keep it close to his own. He wondered if Tom was still alive. And if was, he wondered if the Southern Star Harry had chosen to help him to always find his way back to him was still in his possession.

He didn’t wonder if Tom thought of him, nor if would ever come back. After so much time, Harry doubted it.

He saw his own banner, the golden crowned Stag of his house, fly by in flames and he tried not to think of Tom anymore. Tom wouldn’t love him now anyways. He wasn’t the sweet, beautiful and untouched princess he had left behind. He was tired and wild and wore his scars like constellations on his skin. He wasn’t pretty anymore and no alpha prince would want such an ugly, battle worn omega.

The only marriage he would ever see was one of trade, like the one Grandpa talked about with Prince Cedric.

He sighed, replacing his own battle mask, getting up from the corpse of the dead enemy soldier, gripping on a tree to stabilize shaking legs. The battle still roared around him and Harry wished he could stop it; he wish he could stop all this fighting. But he was just one half of a whole and did not have the power to make it all go away without killing everyone there, friend and foe.

He pulled out his battle horn and blew as hard as he could to rally his troops to him. His elite battalion. His Bannermen. The horn’s cry was answered by others and Harry sighed again. He set himself against tough bark and pulled out his sword again, steadying for a new fight.

He turned and saw Ron and Neville try to fight a crowned figure in dark obsidian armor. The figure was toying with his friends, tiring them, distracting them as lesser soldiers positioned themselves to kill them. He could see it clear as day from this distance and Harry would not allow it. He ran towards his friends, slashing arms and legs, cutting out the enemy soldiers and distracting the crowned foe enough for Neville to strike a good blow.

“This one is mine!” Harry shouted. “Find the others, regroup and march forward! Push them to the river!”

He could see hesitation but Harry did not have time to lose. He jumped into the fray and lashed down the crowned enemy with high “Go, you fools!” And crashed his sword to the villain’s chest.

They obeyed, leaving him and his new opponent to fight.

But as they fought and clashed, it felt like a dance Harry had danced before. He knew these moves. He knew these attacks. It felt like more of a playful parry than a war battle and it displeased him greatly for a number of different reasons.

He decided to fall to less classical attacks but then again, so did his adversary. The other struck Harry’s helmet away, letting loose wild black hair, and leaving him dizzy with the blow. He barely blocked the second and his war mask broke along with the skin of his forehead. Harry grit his teeth, feeling the cut jagged and painful.

Another ugly scar.

He pushed the fighter back and his mask broke and fell. The omega panted and lifted his blade towards his enemy, fight or flight instinct screaming at his core. He couldn’t run. He had to fight. People depended on him. His enemy would kill him either way.

He took pose to strike down and would’ve lunged if a voice hadn’t stopped him.

“Harry?” The voice was lower but it was distinct. It was familiar. It was—

Harry shook. “Tom?”

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, hi!
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Grace that told me this idea was good and she wanted to see me work on it. So let’s do this!
> 
> I hope y’all like it! Comments and kudos are deeply appreciated <3  
> PS: Unbetaed!  
> Also, this will be multi chaptered, it’s just not registering that for some reason :P


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